


Out of Reach

by Aithilin



Series: Phone Calls with Victor [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Spy Victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:58:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took three weeks for Sherlock to reach Victor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Reach

There was rarely a week gone by that Sherlock wasn’t keenly aware of what was happening in the world. Downed planes, corporate scandals, lost soldiers, released prisoners— a thousand little things that filtered back to the public through safe channels for three minute sound bites and headlines.

It was all boring.

It was safe, and unimportant, with all the important bits happening behind the scenes.

Certain bits of news filtered through the chain reached him, and got him worrying— texting a highly classified number he shouldn’t even have access to, or sending off an email to an account that shouldn’t ever be read.

A Canadian tan beret sent off to an ally to train troops that shouldn’t exist. A bit of British movement in the same area. A court case hushed beneath a pile of ‘no media’ orders. Mycroft abroad for far too long (three or four days).

There were bits of news that didn’t make it through to the rest of the public.

Even John noticed when he started to panic. When it took three weeks of stories about activity in the Middle East, of a black spot of quiet in Asia, of borders being redefined, before Sherlock could reach Victor.

Three weeks since receiving a message from a Mycroft that Victor’s leave was rescheduled.

"Where are you?"

"Hello to you too, Will."

When he got through, Victor was sleeping. Strong connection— no delay from interceptions, no static from switching towers— somewhere safe, and not moving.

"Where. Are. You?"

"I can’t tell you, Will." There was exhaustion in Victor’s voice, the shift of sheets as he moved— no heavy muffled duvet, so warm. A click of a lamp, something falling to a carpeted floor. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." He hadn’t meant to snap the response. Fire it at Victor like that— but it had been three weeks of no contact. Of news that meant things were happening behind the scenes. "I’m fine."

"Bee, it’s… Eight in the morning in London. Have you slept?"

"No." He heard John leave an hour ago. Listened for Mrs. Hudson go about her routine before going out for errands. He had retreated to his room during the night, planning privacy in the hopes the call connected. "You’re safe."

"I’m safe." The click again from the bedside lamp, and he settled in his bed while listening to Victor settle into his. "Tell me where I am."

"I don’t know where you are. That’s why I’m frustrated."

"Guess."

"Victor—"

"You’re anxious, Will. The game helps. Guess."

Sherlock sighed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Hotel, somewhere friendly. It’s warm or you’d have heavier blankets on. You’re sleeping, but that doesn’t mean it’s night. Still… You used the lamp. You’re in North America.”

"My brilliant honeybee."

"Honeybees aren’t particularly intelligent, despite the structure and—"

"You’re brilliant."

"I know that." He smiled, listening to Victor’s breathing. "When are you coming back?"

"A week, bee. My flight in is in a week."

"And?"

"Then twenty-four hours to debrief and get sorted at work, then I’m all yours."

"For how long?"

"Three months. Mycroft got me three months." He could hear the smile, hear the hope edging out the exhaustion. "I’m retiring, Will. They’re going to pull me into office work."

"You’re going to hate that."

"I might have to follow you around on your cases."

"John will hate that."

"I could retire to the country."

"Take up beekeeping."

"I already keep you, bee."

"Your jokes are getting worse."

"Go to sleep, Will."

Sherlock hung up without a goodbye— they never said a goodbye. He wondered what it would be like to have Victor at hand for cases. Have him close by. He doubted it would last long. Victor needed proper chases to keep himself occupied, the same way he needed puzzles.

Still.

It was a nice thought.


End file.
